The leaves that scatter, woudn’t really matter;
Your senses will deafen while you hurt inside;
Not wanting to show, not trying to much,
It’s just so out of touch;
It’s like a city full of mazes
Or the hurt that lingers in my phrases
Isn’t enough to heal.
My obsessions get in the way,..
While my wants are all astray
I can’t seem to know whats important..
Or the attraction you have imprinted…
And the lies and the lies of compromise and critism
I stand alone;
Alone stand I …
Underneath a wrath of disappointment.
Oh, lift the dark cloud over me;
Adding your comment: